


What You Never Expected

by shanfawn16



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-01 00:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10176626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanfawn16/pseuds/shanfawn16
Summary: Sequel to "When You Least Expect It". The continuing adventures of Neville and Harry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

****

What You Never Expected

_A/N: This is a sequel to “When You Least Expect It”. The continuing adventures of Neville and Harry as they work their way through the trials and tribulations of their relationship._

 _Disclaimer: The magical world in which my story takes place belongs to the wonderful JKR._

 

Neville glanced around the crowded main room of the Three Broomsticks, looking for the recognizably messy hair of his fiancé. He was still disappointed that he hadn’t been able to attend the last Quidditch game of the season, but Harry had assured him that he understood.

With the end of term only two weeks away, Neville had a lot to do to ready the greenhouses for the summer hols. He had visited several nurseries in London, buying the assorted fertilizers and other provisions he would need to close down the greenhouses. From here on out, they were his responsibility. He couldn’t help but puff up a bit with pride at the knowledge that, with Professor Sprout’s retirement, he would now be the Herbology Professor for Hogwarts. 

Harry wasn’t expecting him to show up at the little tavern, but Neville knew that he had made plans to come and have a celebratory Butterbeer or two, now that his first Quidditch season was officially over. Neville wanted to surprise him – he had bought him some new Quidditch gloves as a gift while he was out today. He knew Harry would love them.

Neville looked around again and, not seeing Harry, figured the Quidditch match had run long. It was a common enough occurrence, so he ordered himself a drink and took a table in the back, keeping one eye on the door for Harry’s arrival.

After about twenty minutes, the door opened and Neville caught his first glimpse of untidy black hair and wind-burnt cheeks. Smiling, he rose from his seat to approach, but stopped suddenly when he viewed a second man enter behind him. Although it had been nearly ten months, he would never forget this man.

After doing a double take, Neville confirmed that Harry was, in fact, meeting with his ex, Marc Williams. Neville felt his hand tighten around his mug of Butterbeer, not sure what he was seeing or why Harry would have any reason to meet with his abusive ex. 

He watched as they chose a somewhat secluded table off to the side, Harry looking tense and Marc smiling as he placed a hand to the curve of Harry’s back. Neville cursed under breath, wanting nothing more than to hex the smile right off that bastard’s face.

Neville felt very conflicted. He wanted to trust Harry, to believe that he had a good reason for meeting with Marc, but he just couldn’t get past the fact that Harry was doing this behind his back. For some unknown reason, Harry had kept it a secret. His heart hurt at the realization that Harry had been hiding this from him.

He didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew that Marc couldn’t be trusted. He had hurt Harry badly in the past and Neville would be damned before he let it happen again. Casting a quick Notice-Me-Not spell on himself, he approached their table, settling along the wall behind Harry. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt for spying, but decided he’d deal with that emotion later.

“… seems to agree with you,” Marc was saying, a slick smile curving his lips. “I don’t remember you ever looking this good, Harry.”

“What can I say, the Scottish climate does wonders,” Harry answered, fidgeting with his napkin. “What did you want, Marc?”

“Just to see you, babe. I’ve missed you,” he said, reaching forward and trying to grasp Harry’s hand.

Harry pulled his hand away quickly. “Don’t touch me, Marc,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have that right anymore.”

“Ooh, touchy, are we? Grown a little backbone, I see. Did your big bad boyfriend teach you that?” Marc asked as he sat back.

“It’s fiancé, and no, he didn’t have to teach me. He just reminded me what it was like to have a little self-worth,” Harry answered, making Neville grin.

“So, where is big bad, anyway?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “I’m surprised he let you out to come meet with me.”

Harry’s eyes darted away, looking out the window as he answered. “He’s busy. Besides, I don’t have to clear my calendar with him. He trusts me and respects me enough to let me make my own decisions.”

Neville felt a new surge of guilt at his words, but let it go as he heard Marc laugh. 

“He has no idea about us, does he?” Marc asked, making Neville’s blood run cold.

“There is no ‘us’, Marc. There hasn’t been for a very long time.”

“So you say. However, that doesn’t stop you from keeping our correspondence from your intended, does it? He has no idea we’ve been writing for months,” he said, continuing to laugh. “What would your dear, sweet fiancé say if he knew, hmm?”

“You are truly deluded, aren’t you?” Harry countered. “There is no correspondence. You write, I tell you to shove off. You show up threatening to make a scene, so I agree to meet with you. Now, what the hell do you really want from me? I’m getting sick and tired of these games, Marc.”

“Quite the little spitfire you’ve turned into,” Marc said, his eyes lighting up. “I have to say, it’s rather attractive.”

“Goodbye, Marc,” Harry said, rising to leave.

“Sit, Potter,” Marc said in a cold voice, effectively freezing Harry in place. “We have a few things to clear up.”

Neville could feel his anger rising as Harry turned and sat back down at the table, his eyes downcast.

“Good boy,” Marc said condescendingly. “Now, these people here may have given you a cushy little job and fed your self-esteem, but we both know they’re just using you. They’ve put you right back up on that pedestal you hated so much, keeping you tied up and sitting pretty, ready to haul out and perform whatever little tricks they want from you. Sure, right now you’re feeling happy and cared for, enjoying your ‘self-worth’,” he sneered, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “But we both know what you really are. We both know what your worth really is, and, sooner or later, everyone here will realize it, too. You won’t be sitting quite so pretty when they decide to throw you aside, kicking you off your little pedestal and spitting on you. Sooner or later, they’ll see you for the garbage you really are.

“Then where will you be, huh?” he continued, grabbing Harry’s wrist. “I was willing to overlook all of that. I gave you a home, a life… I took care of you. And you gave all that up the second your little pretty-boy showed up. I don’t appreciate being cast aside, Potter. You will regret it.”

Neville watched as Harry’s face clouded and his shoulders slumped. Somehow, Marc broke through all the work Harry had done at rebuilding his self-esteem and brought him right back to the defeated, broken man he had been ten months ago. He watched as Marc grabbed his wrist, causing Harry to flinch in pain. He watched until Marc threatened the man he loved, and then he removed the charm keeping him hidden and stepped forward, grabbing Marc’s arm and removing it from Harry.

“I believe he told you not to touch him,” he said darkly, working hard to subdue his initial urge to beat the pulp out of the smarmy, abusive piece of shite in front of him.

“Well, well, well,” Marc sneered, ripping his arm from Neville’s grasp. “Riding to the rescue again, huh? Don’t you ever get tired of playing the hero?”

“Neville,” Harry gasped in surprise.

“Not now, Harry,” Neville growled, never taking his eyes off of Marc. “You have two choices right now, as I see it. One, you can pick your sorry-arse up and leave under your own power, or, two, I can remove it for you. It should be a fairly easy choice.”

“You don’t scare me,” Marc said, rising to his feet and meeting Neville’s glare.

“Then you’re even more stupid than you look,” Neville answered, stepping closer. “You don’t want to cross me, mate. Not when it comes to Harry. Get your arse out of this pub and out of Britain. If I even smell a whiff of your overpriced cologne, I assure you, you will not live to regret it. Harry is off limits. You bother him again, you’ll deal with me. Got it?”

Marc smiled, but stepped back. “Nice pit bull imitation,” he said. “No wonder you’ve got Harry tamed so well. He always did enjoy a heavy hand, didn’t you, babe?”

“You don’t talk to him,” Neville growled. “I believe you know the way out.”

“Sure, big fella, I know the way out. But let me give you a piece of advice,” he said, eyeing Harry once more. “A little control goes a long way with this one. You might want to tighten your leash; you never know what he’s up to behind your back.”

Neville had had enough. He pulled back and punched Marc in the nose, sending him flying back into the table. Blood spurt from his broken nose as he slumped unconscious from the blow. Harry shouted in surprise and leapt back from his seat.

“Neville Longbottom,” Rosmerta shouted from behind the bar. “You know better than to behave that way in my place.”

“Sorry, Rosmerta,” Neville said, wiping his hand on his handkerchief as he walked towards the bar. “I apologize for any inconvenience.” He threw a few galleons on the bar and turned to leave, not looking back. He could hear Harry hurrying after him, calling his name.

“Not now, Harry,” Neville said, refusing to turn back to look at him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He walked on, entering the castle and heading straight for his rooms. Once there, he let out a cry of frustration before stomping into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

They had just barely over a month left before their wedding and, for the first time, he was beginning to wonder if it had been the right decision. Doubt, that terrible and cruel beast, had begun worming its way into Neville’s thoughts. Harry had been hiding things from him for Merlin knows how long. He’d kept things from him and lied and… Neville hung his head in defeat. He needed to think about everything he had learned today. 

**********************************

Harry returned to the rooms he shared with Neville, nervously eyeing the closed door to the bedroom. He had really bollixed it up this time. He had never seen Neville so angry. 

He had known it was a bad idea to keep everything from Neville, but he didn’t know how to tell him without revealing the letters he had been receiving. He hadn’t told him about the first letter, which came only a week before Neville had proposed to him, because he had misinterpreted Neville’s intentions. Once they were engaged, he didn’t know how to bring it up. When they kept coming… well… 

Harry paced back and forth, wishing he knew how to fix things. He knew he had hurt Neville badly and he felt terrible about it.

Finally, after more than an hour, Neville emerged, casting him a quick glance before going to the pantry and pouring himself a glass of Firewhiskey. Surprised, Harry followed him. Harry had only ever seen Neville drink on one other occasion, and that was after the death of his Gran.

“Neville, I’m sorry,” he said meekly, “I know you’re upset with me.”

“Do you have any idea why I’m upset, Harry?” Neville asked, pouring himself another glass.

“Because I hid things from you rather than letting you know what was going on,” Harry responded, hoping to find some way to repair the damage he had done.

“Partly,” Neville replied. “Mostly, I’m upset that you met with that piece of shite in the first place.” He looked up at Harry with sadness and concern filling his eyes. “Harry, he hurt you so badly before. I’m scared as hell to think of what might have happened had I not been there.”

“Nothing would have happened, Nev,” Harry said.

“That’s bull and you know it,” Neville yelled. “He had a hold of you and was filling your head with garbage – and you were buying right back into it. If it had kept up much longer, he would have had you so beaten down that you would have gotten up and followed him right out of that pub. Then… Merlin, I don’t even want to think about what might have happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, ashamed of the hurt and worry he had caused Neville. “I wish I was strong, but I’m not.”

“Stop it, Harry,” Neville yelled. “You are one of the most powerful wizards alive! You have done what no one else could – you defeated the Darkest wizard in over a century. But that… monster… has you so twisted up that you actually believe the drivel he was telling you. How is that even possible?”

Harry sat silent, letting Neville yell and rant, not knowing how to defend himself, and not entirely sure that he should. After a few minutes, Neville also fell silent, collapsing into the seat next to Harry.

“I just love you so much,” he said, a tear escaping his eye. “It kills me inside to know that you think so little of yourself – that you don’t see the amazing man that I do. I’ve done everything I can think of to try and show you, to convince you. I’ve turned my life upside down and tried to give you anything and everything to help and… I just don’t know what more to do, Harry. If he had hurt you…” Neville trailed off.

“I love you, too,” Harry cried, taking the larger man into his arms and holding on tight. “I’ve put you through hell and still, you just keep loving me. I don’t know why, but you do. You’re everything to me, Neville. You have to believe that. Please tell me you believe me.”

“I believe you,” Neville said, clinging back. “But you need to believe me. Nothing he said was true. You are an amazing man and you don’t deserve the hell he put you through. Please promise me you won’t see him again.”

“I promise,” Harry agreed, regretting all the secrets and the decision to meet with Marc in the first place. “I promise I won’t ever keep anything from you again.”

“Gods, I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you, Harry,” Neville said, a sob hitching from his throat.

“You’ll never lose me,” Harry assured him. “I know better than to believe anything he said. I have you, and you’re worth a hundred of him. You’re my whole life, Neville.”

They sat and rocked each other, taking comfort from the embrace and letting themselves heal, once again.

******************************

The wedding was only a week away and the preparations were almost completed. They had set the date as July 29th, so that they could spend their next birthdays as a married couple. Luna, who not only was editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, but also a member of the Wizengamot, had agreed to officiate. They had planned a small ceremony, with only Ron and Hermione in attendance as witnesses, to take place at sunset by the lake on the Hogwarts grounds. 

Harry had never been happier. They had gotten past the difficulties of a month prior and were now ready to begin their lives together on equal footing. He smiled as he thought about the way Neville had made love to him that night after their fight; Neville had been gentle, yet commanding. He had played Harry’s body like an instrument, bringing him to highs he had never experienced before. 

Harry sighed, pulling himself from his ruminations to finish his list of preparations. There were only a few things left and Harry couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that soon, he and Neville would be bonded.

Picking up his Gringotts key, he left the castle and Apparated to Diagon Alley. He needed to pick up a couple of items for the honeymoon and one last gift for the love of his life. He couldn’t help but smile as he walked along the cobbled road, thinking of Neville. 

As he was walking past one of the many small alleyways, he heard a strange noise. Pausing, he craned his neck to listen, hearing what sounded like a voice, but it was so soft, he couldn’t be sure.

“Hello,” he called. “Is someone there?”

He was answered by a soft moan. Feeling that something wasn’t right, he entered the darkened alley with his wand lit, looking for the source of the sound.

“Do you need help?” he called out, beginning to worry. Hearing a shuffling on his right, he turned, only to find a wand thrust in his face. The last thing he saw was a sneering face before everything went dark.

*****************************

“Neville, calm down. I’m sure Harry is fine,” Hermione was saying, watching her friend pacing frantically. 

“He was due back hours ago,” Neville said, worry creasing his brow and turning his stomach. “This isn’t like him.”

“Has anything happened that might make him stay away?” she asked. While she was hoping that Harry had just been held up somewhere, she had a constant worry at the back of her thoughts that he might just pull up stakes and leave, just as he had in the past.

“No. Everything’s been fine,” Neville said, checking the clock once again. Every minute that passed with no word caused his stomach to clench and his control to slip, just a bit more.

“Neville, do you think that maybe –”

“Don’t even say it, Hermione,” he yelled, turning on his friend. “He didn’t leave. Not this time. I don’t care what you think; it didn’t happen. Something is wrong – something’s happened to him.”

Hermione sat back on the couch, deciding for the time being to hold her tongue. Suddenly, the fireplace flared to life and Ron’s face appeared in the green flames.

“Neville, we found him,” he said, looking grave. “He’s at St. Mungo’s. You’d better hurry.”

“Oh gods,” Neville mumbled, his skin going shockingly white.

Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him through the castle, heading for the gates before Side-along Apparating him to the waiting room of St. Mungo’s. At the reception desk, they were directed to Harry’s room. Neville gasped in shock at the sight of Harry. 

He was pale, but mostly he was black and blue. The Healer on duty was checking his vitals as they entered the room and, upon learning whom Neville was, pulled him to the side to give him an update on Harry’s condition.

“Mr. Longbottom, I’m afraid that Mr. Potter has been beaten very badly. He was found in an alleyway on Diagon Alley and brought here immediately, but he had already sustained a great deal of damage. Five of his ribs have been broken, piercing his left lung and causing it to collapse. Several of his internal organs have been bruised and his liver was lacerated. He has a broken wrist, a fractured femur, and also a fracture to his skull. There has been some swelling of his brain due to the trauma that caused the skull fracture, but we’ve managed to contain it. We’re hopeful that there will be no lasting damage, but his recovery will take some time.”

Neville listened to every word the Healer said, but was unable to take his eyes off of the unconscious form of his fiancé. “How did this happen?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“The person who found him saw someone beating him, but his attacker ran off before he could be apprehended. The Auror’s have assigned someone to the case and I’m sure they’ll have more information for you later,” the Healer said.

“How long will he be unconscious?” Neville asked.

“It’s hard to say. We did have to place him under a spell coma to repair some of the damage, but for now, he’s simply in a healing sleep. With any luck, he should be waking sometime in the next twenty-four hours. Do you have any other questions?”

“May I stay with him?” he asked, his breath hitching.

“Of course,” the Healer answered, jotting a few notes down on a parchment before leaving the room.

It was very quiet. There was nothing to break the endless silence in that small space. Neville pulled the lone, small chair next to Harry’s bed and grasped the pale hand that was lying outside of the blankets.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Who did this to you?” There was, of course, no answer.

The next three days passed in a blur of exhaustion for Neville. Harry did not wake as expected, instead lying quiet and still on the small hospital bed. The Healer wouldn’t say it, but Neville knew he was concerned. Various well-wishers would stop by, but Neville didn’t pay them much attention. The whole of his attention was taken up by Harry’s small, still form.

On the fourth day, Tonks arrived and conjured a chair, pulling it close to Neville’s side. He looked up and noticed that she looked tired. Her normally vibrant hair was a nondescript brown color and she had large, bluish circles under her eyes.

“How are you holding up, Nev?” she asked, looking at him concernedly.

“We’re fine,” Neville replied distractedly, looking back down at his fiancé. “It’s nice of you to stop by.”

“I’m here on official business,” she said, causing Neville to look back at her, the first spark of awareness in days appearing in his eyes. “We’ve got someone in custody and we’re planning on charging him with the assault on Harry.”

“Who is it?”

Tonks pulled some pictures out of a pocket in her robe, handing them over to Neville. “Do you recognize this person?”

Looking down, Neville found he wasn’t at all surprised to see Marc’s sneering, angry face staring back at him. “That’s Harry’s ex. He’s an abusive little shite,” he said, handing the pictures back and wiping his hands on his trousers, as if they’d been dirtied. “Are you sure he’s responsible?”

“The eyewitness that found Harry picked him out of a lineup and we were able to match his magical signature with the remnants the Healers found on Harry,” she explained, tucking the pictures away again.

“What will happen to him?” Neville asked.

“He’ll most likely be tried and convicted by the Wizengamot. Standard sentence for this type of assault is ten years in Azkaban.”

Neville nodded and looked back to Harry. A few moments later, Tonks said goodbye and left. Resting his head in his hands, Neville let a small sob escape. He felt like he had failed Harry. The one thing he had always tried to do was to keep Harry safe, and he had failed miserably. Every day that passed without Harry regaining consciousness lessened his chance for a full recovery.

Crying quietly, Neville didn’t notice the soft moan coming from the bed beside him. However, when a frail hand made contact with his head, running through his hair gently, he lifted his face in shock. Harry’s eyes were open and there was a small smile curving his lips.

“It’ll be okay, love,” Harry whispered, his voice weak. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

Neville sobbed in relief, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “You’re right, everything will be okay now,” Neville said before calling for the Healer.

*********************************

Harry pulled nervously at the collar of his formal robes, trying to ignore the good-natured chuckling coming from Ron.

“Seriously, Harry,” Ron said, smiling widely. “Stop fidgeting. You look great – Neville won’t believe his eyes.”

Harry returned a rather strained smile before looking back at his reflection. “Are you sure? I don’t look too pasty, do I?”

“You look fine, Harry,” Ron reassured him. 

Harry had been released from the hospital the night prior, having threatened to hex anyone insinuating that he was not well enough to go through with his wedding the next day. After Neville conferred with the Head Healer, promising to not let Harry exert himself, they agreed to release him. Harry hadn’t stopped smiling since.

“We should head out now,” Ron said, checking his watch. 

Harry nodded and let Ron lead him from the room, leaning on his arm slightly for support. Overall, he really didn’t feel bad. He was weak and a bit stiff from all of his injuries and the time spent in bed, but he was on the mend. He had promised to stick to the strict regimen of healing potions and rest – anything to get out of that blasted hospital and back into his soon-to-be husband’s arms.

As they approached the lake, Harry took in the beauty of the area. Hermione had decorated the shoreline with flowers and, together with the sunset, he was almost blinded with the riot of color. Neville was already there, standing and talking with Hermione and Luna. 

They were wearing matching formal robes of a soft off-white color, trimmed with gold. The light color made Neville stand out against the colorful backdrop and Harry gasped at the strong, handsome picture he made. Smiling, Neville looked up as Harry arrived, reaching out to take his hand and pull him close.

“You look amazing,” he whispered into Harry’s ear, causing him to shiver.

“As do you,” Harry replied. “Are you ready?”

“More than,” Neville said, placing a small kiss on Harry’s forehead.

As they turned to Luna, a faint breeze came up from nowhere, ruffling their robes and caressing them with its warmth. Luna smiled widely. “The spirits have approved this bonding and have decided to join us,” she said in her misty voice, causing everyone assembled to smile. “What a wonderful omen.

“Let us begin.”

 

_Fin_


End file.
